Daddy's Magic Plasters
by pukeko10
Summary: Little one shots! Ch 1: What's a Saiyan Prince to do, when faced with an enemy he can't possibly defeat? Ch 2: Bulma accidentally stirrs up some old memories, Vegeta wants to forget.
1. Daddy's Magic Plasters

Hello guys! I'm finally back with a cute little fluff piece :) Kudos to my beta **foxyrules**!

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 **Daddy's Magic Plasters**

Vegeta blocked the hard punches that were thrown at him, relentless and powerful. Vegeta held his arms up in defense, as he was slowly pushed back. His opponent kicked his crossed forearms with a final thrust, before she kicked off, doing a flip backwards and coming to stand a few feet away from him. She was panting, covered in sweat. Pride filled the Saiyan Prince.

"Come on Daddy! Defend yourself! This is boring, you're not hitting back!"

Vegeta beheld his six-year-old daughter. Her blond hair was still tied up in a messy ponytail, but it defied gravity in all directions, she was pouting.

"I am, Bulla."

He wasn't. He didn't spare her when it came time to train his daughter, but he never pushed her as hard as he had with Trunks at the age. He didn't know if he had grown soft with time or the fact that this wondrous creature had a hold on him that he was unable to comprehend or describe.

She stomped her foot, turquoise eyes flashing, "No your NOT! Fight me, like you do with Trunks!"

Vegeta couldn't help but grin.

"DADDY!"

What's a Saiyan Prince to do, when faced with an enemy he can't possibly defeat? Of all the challenges Vegeta had faced over the years, beyond them all, he could not bring himself to harm his little princess. Bulma had started to notice though, and she had warned him that Bulla would too. "You can't treat her like she can't handle it. One of the reasons why I'm so successful in my field is because my father expected nothing less from me; it didn't matter that I was a girl. You're one of the biggest influences in her life; your expectations will drive her." He could not let his baby-girl down.

"Fine." Vegeta bent his legs, assuming his fighting stance, "Let's just see what you can do!"

Bulla smirked, then she appeared by his feet kicking his legs, in an attempt to throw him off balance. Vegeta jumped back, but she slid under and was now behind him, placing a hard kick on his lower back, but Vegeta reached around, grabbed her by the calf, and threw her off. She crashed against the wall of the gravity room, recovered immediately, and sped towards him. Blows rained down on him, he dodged, waiting patiently for an opening. It didn't take long. Bulla lifted her arms too far up and Vegeta punched her in the stomach, not hard, but enough to send her to the ground gasping. She rolled sideways, pushed herself up and sped upwards. She stood in mid-air, charging up, golden ki encasing her small form, she yelled out sending blast after blast towards him.

Vegeta beheld her in all her Super Saiyan glory. _She truly doesn't do things by half._

Vegeta dodged the attacks advancing. Suddenly she stopped and sent a bigger energy wave towards him, instead. The full-blooded Saiyan hadn't seen that coming and caught the blast at the last second, deflecting it, where it got absorbed by a wall. But she was busy forming a new attack and Vegeta completely perplexed realized it was a mini version of his Galick Gun as he got hit head on. He went into a spin.

"Brat!"

Vegeta moved blazingly fast, he was behind Bulla and grabbed around her middle, holding her in place. She squirmed and kicked out, but she was trapped. Vegeta chuckled in her ear, "What now you little hellcat!"

"What are you doing?! You're being unfair! You are too much bigger than me."

Vegeta tightened his hold, making her gasp painfully, "How about you stop your whining and find a way out of it, Bulla!"

She wound and reared in his hold, even plunged her teeth in his arm, but it was no use, and with every failed attempt Vegeta's hold got firmer, "You are a Saiyan warrior. Act like it!"

For a split second she went limp, Vegeta hesitated, until he realized that she was gathering herself.

"Sorry, Daddy, but this is gonna hurt!"

She yelled out, releasing her energy and she pounded her elbow as hard as she could in his stomach three-six-eight blows, powerful and well-placed. The last one almost knocked the breath out of him and he loosened his grip. She used the opportunity to knock him on the jaw with her head, Vegeta let go and she zipped away from him to the floor, breathing hard.

Vegeta didn't allow her to recover. He was in front off her, attacking, she dodged his punches with grim determination. Vegeta noticed that she got tired, her energy draining, till one of his punches broke through her defense and bashed her face. She yelped and got thrown backwards, her hair returning to its aqua color.

Vegeta froze.

Bulla sat up, the skin on her cheekbone was busted open, blood running. She slide her fingers across and looked at the blood on her hand, "DADDY I have a PLAY at school TONIGHT!" she looked at him, her little nose wrinkled in anger, "I can't go LIKE THIS!"

Vegeta looked at the blood that was dripping on her suit now. Right the play...he'd utterly forgotten about that. Bulma had demanded he come. He sighed.

He bent down next to her, wiping away the blood with his gloved hand.

"Fix it, Daddy, please! Do your magic!"

"Bulla, it's not mag..." he broke off. Bulma's voice rang again in his ear, something or other about not to bust a child's bubble. He'd never quite gotten what that meant, let alone what a bearded old man or some bloody bunny had to do with it. He only knew if he spilled the beans, Bulla would be disappointed and his wife would be making his life hell.

"Fine." As he got up, he found with an ounce of satisfaction that the spot where Bulla had elbowed him was quite sore. He went to a first aid box on the wall, pulled out a packet, and kneeled next to his daughter. The packet looked quite battered and was almost empty and he shook out the contents onto his palm. Three square pink plasters with princesses on them fell out.

The Saiyan grabbed one, but Bulla grimaced, "I don't want the princess ones!"

Vegeta led out a strong breath through his nose, "Bulla it doesn't matter, there is no..."

"I want one with dinosaurs on it!"

"It doesn't make a diff..."

"We have to look in the kitchen!"

Vegeta was striving for patience, fighting not to growl at her. This kid required a whole other kind of strength from him. It was exhausting. He inhaled long and hard, " _Fine_."

The little Saiyan stretched out her arms, "Carry me!" she ordered. Vegeta lifted a brow, scowling at her and Bulla cocked her head, batting those big blue eyes, "Please!"

Vegeta scooped her up with one arm. She wound her small arm around his strong neck, leaning her head against his chest. A warm sensation swept through him, her hair tickling his face and he carefully smoothed his finger down the side of her unharmed cheek.

They left the Gravity Room and made their way to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna come and see my play, tonight? I'm a cactus!" she told him proudly

"A cactus? Why in hell would you play a plant?"

"It's a talking cactus," she chirped, as if that explained everything, "But only in the first act, later I'm gonna be the thief that steals from the evil magician, Grantelbart!" she tapped his shoulder, "You gonna come, right dad?!"

He could think about at least 1000 things he'd rather do, "Of course."

Vegeta pushed open the door to the kitchen. His wife leaned against the counter, a steamy cup in her hand. Her eyes wondered over her husband and daughter, Bulla's blood-stained training suit, the dried blood on her face, and the big blue bruise that was forming around the cut on her cheekbone.

Bulma rolled her eyes taking a sip of coffee, "Kami knows why child protective services haven't been sicced on us, yet!" she looked at Bulla, "Are you alright, Sweety?"

Bulla nodded firmly, "Dad is gonna do his magic trick!"

"Is he now?!", chuckling she looked at Vegeta.

"Where do you keep the plasters Bulma?" I require the dinosaur plasters, your daughter didn't see the princess ones fit..."

"If someone had told me 18 years ago, you'd be standing in my kitchen asking for dinosaur plasters for your six-year-old, I'd have called them mad, absolutely insane. But look at us now. You are a big sof..."

" _Bulma_!"

His wife laughed, "They are in the drawer in front of you."

Vegeta sat his kid on the kitchen counter, pulled a plaster out and showed it to Bulla, "Is this one to your liking!?", he asked through clenched teeth.

"Yay, a _Raptor_! My favourite!"

Vegeta gently cleaned the blood off her face and put the plaster on the table, covering it with his hand. Bulla watched his every move in excitement. Bulma was also looking at him and Vegeta blushed.

"Do it!" the demi Saiyan demanded.

Red ki flickered around his hand, followed by blue, green, and orange. Bulla squealed happily, "You forgot the purple!"

The Saiyan Prince obeyed acquiescently and the kitchen shone in bright purple. The light died away, he peeled the cover of the plaster and stuck it on Bulla's cut that had already started to close.

She looked at him with her beautiful aqua eyes, "So tonight, when you take the plaster off, everything is gonna be fine, right? You made it go away!"

"Yes, it will be."

Bulla kissed his cheek - the stony counter top cracked under Vegeta's hands - jumped of and whirled out of the kitchen.

He avoided Bulma's gaze, blushing, "The kid is to smart for her own good half the time, but doesn't understand Saiyan self-healing."

Bulma starred at the demolished granite, "Gosh you are wax in her hands, aren't you? All it took to finally bring the mighty Prince of all Saiyans down was a little girl."

"Tch! The three of you are my ruin!"

"Aww!" Bulma twined her arm around his waste, brushing his ripped abs, "You are her hero, Vegeta. Mine too! Feels good, doesn't it?"

Vegeta locked his eyes with her. It did, indeed.

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I hope you enjoyed it :) It's a different take on Bulla's and Vegeta's relationship than you're probably used to, but that's how I've always pictured it :) It's the first time that I'm writing Vegeta and Bulla and it was quite fun! I might turn this into a multi chapter story, with random one shots, but I'm not sure yet.

The next chapter of **Melting Ice** will be out soon, too!


	2. Music and Memories

I am alive!

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 **Music and Memories**

Bulma screwed the tiny bolt on her bot her hand was unsteady and shaky causing the screw to jump out of its socket. Bulma threw the screwdriver on the table, throwing herself against the backrest of her chair. Running both her hands through her hair, she took a deep breath.

She needed a break.

The threat of the androids was starting to wear her down, like an invisible hand suffocating her. She has been building and improving bots as well as working on upgrades for the gravity machine, doing anything in her power to help and defeat the androids. She had been working without pause for months now.

She surveyed her workbench it was chaos full of tools, cables, circuits, boards, diagnostic devices, crushed bots, and metal chips, and decided to call it a day. Her head felt heavy, her mind was worn out and she had to admit to herself that she couldn't accomplish anything right now. Bulma stretched, grabbed the empty coffee mug, and made her way to her bed room. The hallways were dark, but Bulma didn't bother to switch the lights on. She pushed open the door to her room.

The air was stifling and Bulma opened the balcony door. A light breeze carried the cool air of the night inside. She inhaled, taking in the oxygen and her gaze wondered over the compound. It was long past midnight, but the space ship was still lit up and she could see Vegeta's silhouette moving behind the windows. It had only been a couple of weeks ago that he'd blown up the ship, along with himself. A small smile tugged on her lips, as she remembered how'd she nursed him to health. But now he was back to his training, pushing himself to an extent that bordered on madness.

Bulma turned her back and went to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she brushed her teeth and changed into some very short PJ pants and a loose top. She let herself fall into the sheets, but noticed how tense she was. Her body was tired, but her mind wide-awake. She couldn't relax. Her gaze trailed the room until her eyes fell on an elegantly curved shape in the corner next to her walk-in closet. When was the last time that she'd played her cello? She honestly couldn't remember.

She loved the instrument. She'd been taking lessons since she was a little kid, but she hardly played anymore. When was the last time she played? She coudln't remember. To much had happened; the Saiyans, Namek, and now the Androids. Her brows furrowed, when had her carefree life ended, exactly?

Bulma slipped out of bed.

She lifted her instrument out of its case, it felt heavy and familiar in her grip and she ran her fingers along the smooth wood. It was outrageously expensive, built by one of the best luthiers in the world. It had been a present from her parents.

She took the bow, sat down, closed her eyes, and began to play. Her delicate fingers flew over the strings, and soon the air was filled with melodic sounds. The melody was light and cheerful and it didn't take long until Bulma was fully immerged in her play, forgetting the world around her and the haze in her mind lifted and the tension in her body relieved.

She finished the last notes, opened her eyes and almost fell of her chair.

Vegeta stood in the threshold of the balcony door, watching her. She'd caught him off guard. For the fraction of a second, raw emotion was displayed on his face, before he managed to regain control of himself and his features returned to normal, hard and unreadable. But Bulma had seen it - the melancholy and agony in his eyes. How long had he been listening?

The Saiyan had already turned, about to flee the room, but Bulma got up reaching out for him, "Wait."

To her utter astonishment, Vegeta obeyed. He halted. His broad back was still turned to her, one hand clawing the doorframe, "Why?"

Bulma's arm fell limp at her side. She didn't know why she'd stopped him, let alone had she anticipated that he'd listened to her, so she just said, "If you want, I can play some more for you."

Vegeta's head hitched. His onyx eyes holding hers captive, his gaze getting intense, dark and for a moment Bulma was frightened. She could see him battling with himself, the knuckles of his fisted hands turning white, then he seemed to give into something, his tension lessening. He slowly slid down to the floor. Leaning against the full-length window, he only nodded, avoiding looking at her.

So Bulma sat back down and began to play. The compositions she chose where merry and jolly, reminding her of the ocean and summer and Vegeta just listened. After maybe an hour, she stopped and the Saiyan was still there. He hadn't moved. A lonely figure in the half-light.

Bulma didn't quite understand what was going on. Vegeta seemed so...defenseless.

"Are you familiar with this sort of music?

Vegeta gazed outside, his eyes set on the star littered night sky. He stayed silent. The moonlight illuminated his face and Bulma was fascinated by his regal aura, the hard, but handsome features.

After a while he answered, "My mother she...she played an instrument quite similar to yours." His voice was rough and low.

Bulma carefully leaned her cello on the wall. Had she stirred up old memories? She hesitated, but then approached Vegeta. When he didn't react, she sat down next to him, his masculine scent enveloping her. She was astounded, that he was sharing details of his childhood with her.

"Would she play for you?" She asked softly, hopeful that he would respond.

His look was absent, the black eyes fixed on some distant point in the dark sky, "Yes. It would drive my father livid, saying that she was making me soft."

"What happened to her?" Her words were barely audible.

"Frieza killed her."

Bulma's heart contracted in a horribly painful way, "Vegeta..." Without thinking, she grabbed his hand. She felt him going rigid, but he didn't pull away from her.

"He was punishing me for defying his orders. I'd fled his ship, shortly after he took me." The Saiyan scoffed bitterly, "Frieza thought it would break me."

Bulma gently stroke the back of his hand, tracing the broad scar that ran across, "Frieza got what he deserved, Vegeta. He's rotting in hell."

She wasn't sure, if he'd heard. The Saiyan seemed in a distant place, "I was seven…just a boy." His voice was choked, his words almost sounding like a desperate apology.

At that moment Bulma realized, how much Vegeta must have been through. The incredible strength he truly possessed. Despite it all, he was never broken.

He fell silent. They sat side by side until the sun rose from the horizon, bathing Vegeta and Bulma in soft morning light.

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As a little thank you for pledging, I wrote this little piece for my patron Rasilina a while back. She asked for a story where Bulma plays the cello to release stress and Vegeta finding out about her talent.

I am working on the next chapter of **Melting Ice**! So there should be an update in a couple of weeks ;)


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